Invisible Hand
by Snootiegirl99
Summary: After defeating Count Dooku, rescuing the Supreme Chancellor, and banishing General Grievous from Coruscant, Anakin and Obi-Wan suss out the aftermath of the Count's death. Slash, non-explicit.


**Title**: Invisible Hand

**Author**: snootiegirl99

**Summary**: After defeating Count Dooku, rescuing the Supreme Chancellor, and banishing General Grievous from Coruscant, Anakin and Obi-Wan suss out the aftermath of the Count's death. Slash, non-explicit.

**Warnings**: None, just don't read it if you don't like Anakin and Obi-Wan as a couple.

**Disclaimer**: I own none of these characters. All rights belong to Disney Corp. and LucasFilms. The dialog used below and followed by an asterisk is from the movie version of Revenge of the Sith, written by George Lucas.

* * *

"Ok, Master. But you owe me. And not just for saving your skin for the tenth time," Anakin said with a smile and an accusing finger.*

"Ninth, time. That business on Cato Nemoidia doesn't count," Obi-Wan said with a return smile. "I'll see you at the 'briefing,'" he added.*

Anakin smiled to himself. Briefing. Debriefing. Either way. And he walked toward where the Supreme Chancellor was talking to Senators and HoloNet reporters. Why do I have to be the face of the Jedi? he wondered for the thousandth time as he pasted on his most charming smile.

He sensed someone watching him from the shadows as he talked, giving them the best possible angle on the story. Dooku dead; Grievous thwarted; Chancellor saved. What else was there to say? He cast his eyes around to see who was watching him. Then he spotted her.

Padme. Again.

"Will you excuse me, Senator?" he said to Bail Organa.*

"Of course," the Senator replied with a polite bow. Anakin took a deep breath and turned to the lurking shadow.*

He walked toward her and noted that she looked different from the last time he had seen her. She was dressed in a very plain cloak and had almost no adornment in her hair. This must be her 'stalking' look. Inconspicuous compared to her usual get-ups.

"Padme," he greeted her by first name but still formally bowing.

"Anakin!" she squeaked. "I was so worried. There were whispers that you'd been killed!" She tried to touch him, and he stepped half a step away from her.*

"I'm all right," he assured her emotionlessly, keeping his hands clasped together behind his back.*

She tried her first trick and pouted. "But the war is so dangerous, and you're always in the thick of it," she said in a conspiratorial whisper, as if they shared secrets. As if she knew anything more than what she heard on the HoloNet news.

"I go where I am needed, Senator. It is my duty to help the Republic in any way I can," he replied calmly. Beneath his smooth exterior, he was deftly trying to think of the quickest way to make his exit.

She was clearly nonplussed by his response to her concern. Quickly shedding two tears, she tried again to break through his Jedi reserve, "It's just so awful to think of you risking your life. You are so important to me, Anakin!" To reinforce the tears, she put her hands to her face and shook her shoulders a little in a mock sob.

He might have pitied her if she hadn't tried this trick many times in the past. It was a shame that he had been apprehensive about returning to Coruscant if only because he knew that she would do everything in her considerable power to contact him, as she had time and again over the past 4 years, since he as a Padawan had escorted her to Naboo. He was impressed and disgusted with her speed at tracking him this time-the crash of the Invisible Hand occurring mere hours before.

He decided the time had come to make his departure. He had much more important and pressing matters to attend to. "I am sorry to hear that you were troubled, Senator. But as you can see, I am faring better than most in these trying times. Thank you for your concern," he concluded and with a bow, he walked away from her.

She stared after him in disbelief. What was it going to take to crack that man? She had thrown herself at him, flattered him, shamed him, shown concern, offered favors, everything she could think of to seduce him. But nothing worked. Damn the Jedi and their discipline. Especially that Master of his-Kenobi. He was the worst one. She stomped off in the opposite direction, fuming.

* * *

Anakin arrived at the Temple briefing room somewhat late. He had been detained after leaving Padme at the Senate building by more HoloNet reporters and a gaggle of Jedi groupies. He had to sign autographs and talk to them for a few minutes as requested by the Council to boost public relations for the Order.

He shook his head as he entered the room with the large holoimage of the known galaxy in the center. He never figured he'd be a 'poster boy,' as Obi-Wan put it, for the Order. He just did his duty and followed his heart. If saving millions of lives was newsworthy, then so be it. But that's not why he did it.

"You're late," Obi-Wan intoned as soon as he felt Anakin's presence in the room. He was already shutting down the holoimage. "But I will overlook this indiscretion with a suitable excuse." He turned around, lounged against the holoprojector, and crossed his arms across his chest.

Anakin hung his head in an appropriately contrite posture but let a small smirk touch his lips. "Sorry, Master. I was detained by my adoring public." He stopped when he was almost toe to toe with Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes, and said, "Oh, yes, I have seen the footage in the past. Throngs of glassy-eyes women, pawing at you. How you can emerge from such encounters with any sort of dignity, I'll never know." Obi-Wan dropped his hands to the edge of the console against which he leaned.

Anakin looked up the length of his Master from his supple, brown boots to his rakish hair falling into his eyes as always. "Well, it's a tough job, Master, but someone has to do it," he intoned.

Scoffing, Obi-Wan reached up to grab Anakin by his tunics, his hands fisting in the coarse material. He pulled the younger man toward him, kicking his boots apart to land on either side of Obi-Wan's feet. Then he leaned in toward Anakin's face, and said with something nearing contempt, "I certainly hope that none of them has sullied you. I'd hate to have to wait my turn because of them."

"Now, Master, jealousy is not very becoming on you," Anakin chided him as he licked his lips and leaned in even closer to Obi-Wan's acerbic ones.

"It's not jealousy. It's simple concern for your health and well-being," Obi-Wan returned as he unclenched a hand to brush imagined stray bits of other people from Anakin's dark cloak and tunics. "Enough banter. Come here," he commanded.

Obi-Wan then pulled on the back of Anakin's head until their lips met in a passionate kiss. They had been waiting days for the opportunity to taste each other again. And they were determined not to rush anything. They languidly explored each other's mouths, searching for the reason they arose each morning. That reason wasn't the Order, the Republic, or (Force never!) the war. That reason was the affection, the soul-cleansing passion, that each man found in the other.

They angled their heads from side to side, exchanging position with the ease of practice. No one led, and no one followed. They simply strolled along a familiar path. Both of Obi-Wan's hands slipped up into Anakin's curls, twirling them around his fingers carefully, avoiding tangles and painful pulling. The pads of his fingers rubbed circles into the scalp, feeling the contours of the skull which managed to contain so much blinding brilliance.

Anakin groaned into Obi-Wan's mouth as he melted into the warm hands on his head. He had braced himself with his hands on the edge of the holoprojector to keep from crushing the smaller-framed man. But with the relaxation of the massaging, he sagged against the firm body instead. Their hearts beat in tandem with the excitement and the counterpoint of contentment. The push and pull of their need and their met needs.

With effort, then pulled their swollen lips apart, resting their foreheads together. Heaving with the work of breathing, their arms straining to hold onto each other, they drank in each other's eyes and all of the words contained in them. In the eyes of the Force, they were one being. Two halves having found each other against incredible odds. Odds they kept defying day after day throughout the war.

"Home. Now," Anakin murmured between kisses planted on Obi-Wan's neck. Obi-Wan nodded his assent, and hummed his approval. His light slap on Anakin's back was the signal for them to part, temporarily, and make their way to their quarters.

As they walked through the light-filled hallways of the Temple, Anakin decided to mention his little 'run-in' with the Senator. Obi-Wan stopped dead and placed a hand on Anakin to stop him as well.

"She what?" he asked incredulously, shaking his head. "What is she thinking?"

Anakin shook his head too. "I really don't know. I don't know how many ways I can say no to this woman before she'll finally take the hint." The thought of how many times she had waylaid him started to anger him. He planted his fists on his hips.

Obi-Wan knew that stance. "It's ok, Anakin. Don't get upset. Shall I speak to her? Perhaps I can use the weight of the Council to get her to back off." Obi-Wan's voice was laced with concern. Anakin didn't need any more worries heaped onto him. This woman was going to stop harassing him, if Obi-Wan had anything to say about it.

But now he had more pressing matters, some right on his person.

"Thank you, Obi-Wan," Anakin agreed.

They began walking again, each in his own thoughts. When they reached the door, Anakin reached out to open it, and then stepped back to let Obi-Wan enter first. But his politeness was all a ploy as he tackled Obi-Wan from behind as soon as the door was closed.

"Oof," Obi-Wan grunted, as six-foot, two inches of Jedi Knight attached to his back with renewed vigor after their ordeal on the Invisible Hand. The smaller Master just smiled and allowed his former student to express his emotions in the way he had never tamed. I guess things worked out for the best, he ruminated, rueful of his attempts to train Anakin out of such things.

"Home," whispered Anakin. "So good to be home."

"Mmm," Obi-Wan agreed with him. "It is nice to be safely welcomed into the Temple. But you are home to me, Anakin. Safe, familiar, warm."

Swelling with even more emotion at the sensation these words evoked, Anakin nuzzled into the hair at the nape of Obi-Wan's neck, and placed a light trail of kisses down his spine, pulling down the collar of his tunic to reach more skin. Obi-Wan unbelted his own belt to relieve the pressure of the coarse fabric on his neck. His tunics started to slide off into an untidy heap on the floor.

"As long as you're back there, Anakin, could you work out some of the knots in my shoulder please? That last shot from Dooku seems to have left an impression," Obi-Wan said, rolling his sore shoulders. Anakin pulled Obi-Wan's undertunic off over his head.

He ran careful hands along Obi-Wan's shoulders, meticulously cataloging the bruising that was starting to show up beneath the pale flesh. "Oh, Obi-Wan," he cooed as Obi-Wan hissed a little, "This is going to hurt tomorrow. I don't know if I could loosen the muscles without aggravating the bruising." For the ten thousandth time, Anakin Skywalker wished that he had taken the time to learn at least some rudimentary healing techniques. What good was being the most powerful Jedi in the history of the Order if he couldn't ease Obi-Wan's pain a little?

Instead of working on the knotted muscles of his shoulders, the younger man decided to distract his former Master from the issue entirely. Dropping his hands to Obi-Wan's hips, he slid his fingers down under the waistband of the leggings, massaging the firm skin he found there. "How about I relax you in other ways?" he asked huskily.

Obi-Wan rested his head back on Anakin's shoulder, savoring the images that ran through his mind courtesy of Anakin's words and their strong mental bond. He felt his muscles begin to unwind from the tension of battle all the while bracing for the intensity to come. But he would trade these two stresses any day.

Turning in Anakin's arms, the copper-haired Master sought out those full lips which filled his dreams with pleasant sensations. At once, they were so soft and so strong, taking what they required but giving so much in return. Obi-Wan's hands drifted down Anakin's chest to his belt and unclasped it in a trice.

He paused to remember the first time he had undressed Anakin. He had been so nervous, so urgent, that he struggled with the belt until Anakin had chuckled and helped him. But once they had fumbled together past the undressing stage, all had come naturally. Smoothly. As if they had always known each others bodies, desires, and passions. Which in a way, they had.

Were there two people in all of the galaxy who knew each other better? Were there two people more closely bonded and connected? Through missions and training, through war and peace, through laughter and arguments, these two had remained together. Neither could get far from the other without feeling the whiplash need to slingshot back to the other's side. Here each was whole and complete. A team.

Their partnership extending to a physical relationship was something that Anakin had dreamed of for years and that Obi-Wan had not properly considered. Adherent to the Code, Master Kenobi had thought that the two of them had actualized their relationship as far and as deeply as it could go. He was content with the strength of their partnership, until looking back on it through the lens of endless nights of sexual expression, passionate embraces, and ardent declarations of devotion.

Who wouldn't want this god of a man as a lover? Obi-Wan asked himself. I was foolish to ever deny myself, and him, the chance.

He began this session of bodily worship with his hands. He traced Anakin's arms up to his shoulders, hooking his thumbs into the tunic lapels. "We really need to get you some new ones of these. They are starting to look a little shabby," he remarked with a slight scowl. "Can't have our poster boy looking less than spectacular, now can we?" he teased.

Anakin chuckled. "I don't care. I wear clothing to protect my skin. I perform my duty to protect the Republic, and you. I don't give a flying kriff what my clothing looks like on the HoloNet," he said and finished shedding his tunics. "Now, isn't it better to be focused on my skin than my clothes anyway, Master?"

"Indeed, my Padawan," Obi-Wan replied. "I was just thinking the same thing myself." And he leaned in for more heated petting, their bare chests now able to create more friction between them. If he didn't know better, Obi-Wan would swear the friction was actually sparking now.

Feeling unusually spontaneous after a well-accomplished mission, Obi-Wan suddenly jumped up and hooked his legs around Anakin's hips. And despite the rarity of such an act, Anakin caught him easily and began to make his way to their shared bedroom.

They had both became aware of the soothing scents of their shared space as soon as they had cleared the front doorway. But their bedroom was another level altogether. Amazingly potent even after a vacancy of over three standard months, Anakin and Obi-Wan felt themselves relax another degree. This was their space. It spoke of them, smelled of them, and felt of them. Obi-Wan decided that perhaps there was some advantage to being back at the Temple after all.

The heady experience was very arousing.

Hanging onto Anakin's hips gave Obi-Wan a front-row seat to Anakin's growing need. And he felt himself responding in kind. They had saved the galaxy once more. They had earned some time to themselves. And an afternoon making love, unhurried, uninterrupted, was just the remedy to war and death. The Negotiator and the Hero with No Fear were unavailable for a few hours-the galaxy would have to just take care of itself.

Anakin dropped Obi-Wan onto the bed with little ceremony. The older man leaned back onto his elbows and watched Anakin pull off their boots. "I'm very proud of you defeating him today, love," he told his former apprentice.

Anakin froze. He hadn't wanted to think about it, but there it was in front of him again. Dooku. Dooku's head, severed and rolling. And Anakin knowing he was solely responsible for that death. He had killed. He had murdered. He had to come clean to Obi-Wan and ask for-not forgiveness; Obi-Wan couldn't forgive something this horrible-absolution? A rationalization that could free him from the darkness that had settled into his heart? Obi-Wan would know what to do, what to say.

From his position on his knees in front of his Master, Anakin sunk his head down onto his chest. He took some deep breaths, his hands resting heavily on his own knees. Obi-Wan watched this change in demeanor with caution. It wasn't like Anakin to stop touching him during moments like this. He sat back up on the mattress and straightened his spine, unconsciously ready to shoulder whatever burden Anakin asked.

"Obi-Wan," Anakin's voice was a hoarse whisper full of self-loathing and regret. "I murdered him. I had him disarmed, and I killed him anyway. I don't know why. I don't know how. But I did it. I am not worthy of your love, of basking in your light. I want you to be happy, but I don't want to taint you with my deeds." He couldn't lift his eyes to his Master's, too ashamed to look at the disappointment he knew he would find there.

Obi-Wan was shocked. He was disbelieving. How? Why? What? No.

He reached out a hand to touch Anakin lightly on the shoulder. Anakin flinched at the softness of the gesture, but he didn't pull away. He needed to feel that connection to anchor him in something that wasn't pain, fear, anger, and regret. He laid his cheek against the beloved hand, still avoiding looking into those loving eyes and seeing the pain he had planted in them.

"Did you," Obi-Wan began, as hoarse as Anakin's voice had been. "Did you take pleasure in his death?" He had to know everything.

Anakin's head snapped up. "No!" he asserted. "Never! I just felt compelled to do it. We had chased him so long; he had hurt so many. I wanted it to end." He found his gaze boring into Obi-Wan's, tears blurring it now, and searching for the answers he desperately needed to understand his own actions. "I want the war to end and the Sith to end."

Obi-Wan's face softened enough to begin to comfort Anakin. "I know you do, Anakin," he said. "You have seen so many atrocities wrought by that man's actions or directions. We all want an end to this pain and suffering. A receding of the Dark Side. But-" he stalled. What could he say?

So many rules had been broken since the beginning of the war. So many tenets they had clung to did not serve them anymore. So many good friends lost; too many children given adult responsibilities. Was Anakin wrong to rid the galaxy of one of the two Sith? He himself had killed Darth Maul and been lauded and Knighted. Was this different? An argument could be made that interrogation of Darth Tyrannus would have proved beneficial, but could he have possibly been compelled to talk? Obi-Wan doubted there was anything in the galaxy that would have been leverage enough.

Obi-Wan shook his head and made up his mind. "No, there is no 'but'. You did what you felt you had to do. You said so yourself that you felt 'compelled'. Perhaps the Force was guiding you. None of us will ever know since we were not your witnesses. You must let this go, Anakin. The past cannot be changed. Let us look to a future where we find and rid ourselves of the one remaining Sith and feel the cleansing of the Force." He tried a tight smile.

Anakin closed his eyes and internalized Obi-Wan's words. He looked at them. Tasted them. Became one with them and saw their truth-the one truth he needed. The Sith were evil. Every living being was safer with one fewer alive. And now that it was in the past, he need not dwell on what he could not change. He returned Obi-Wan's small smile and buried his face in his Master's chest, squeezing mercilessly with his muscled arms.

Obi-Wan in turn, held onto Anakin to keep from losing him to his regret and fear. They had spoken many times of fear since they had become lovers. The words seemed to flow more easily between them now, as did understanding and acceptance. Fear was something that would always be a part of Anakin, but Obi-Wan's fervent hope was that their love could overshadow the fear and keep it contained.

As the younger man started to stir against his chest, Obi-Wan began dropping kisses on his hair, his forehead, and his tear-streaked cheeks. "No," he said softly, "No more of that. Not today." He wouldn't have his boy crying here or now. They were celebrating. They were together. They were safe. They would take care of each other.

So Obi-Wan dove for the heat of Anakin's mouth. He would love this pain away from Anakin. He would banish the guilt and self-loathing by owning the very soul of this luminous being. And when I own you, he thought, I will be responsible for all of your wrongdoing so that you can be free of it. This I can do for you.

The older man began leaning back onto their bed, bringing the large warm body with him. Anakin, in turn, crawled up the length of Obi-Wan's body to keep their lips in contact, their tongues sliding along each other. He worshipped at Obi-Wan's altar. He aligned their bodies so that he slid between Obi-Wan's legs and settled on his hips. They both broke out in a sweat, flushing the negative emotions of the day even from their pores.

They continued to kiss, to touch, to consume each other in ritual cleansing of their spirits. They writhed and whispered endearments. They laughed and teased. Life was reaffirmed in their joining as they moaned and called each other's names. As they gripped hard and pushed harder. The two switched positions and gave and received pleasure in every way they could. And then they slept.

No nightmares visited Anakin Skywalker the night after he slew Count Dooku on General Grievous' ship the Invisible Hand. He lay safely bound up in the arms of Master Obi-Wan Kenobi, in their shared bed. He had no apprehensions for the future. He was a Jedi, and he was content.

* * *

**Epilogue**

Obi-Wan Kenobi visited Senator Padme Amidala at her Senate offices. Short of drawing his lightsaber or invoking the involvement of the Jedi Council, he made it perfectly clear that she was not to pursue Anakin anymore in any way. He would take it personally if she did. And he would not be as diplomatic on his next visit.

Padme was shocked that the famed Negotiator had treated her as a common war criminal. However, she quickly agreed that under the circumstances of the war, the Council Member before her, and her position in the Senate, the last thing she wanted or needed was a scandal between her office and the Jedi Order.

She vowed never to see Anakin Skywalker in the flesh again.


End file.
